


The Sweetest of Intentions

by EchoResonance



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoResonance/pseuds/EchoResonance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanda has never made chocolate before, but Valentine's Day seems like a good day to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest of Intentions

_I hate Valentine’s Day_.

The kitchen was a mess. Bowls sat stacked on the stove and on countertops, several large mixing spoons sitting inside with the remnants of melted chocolate gluing them against the inner wall. The counter was dusted with sugar and cocoa powder, and honey was trying to cement everything to the counter—including Kanda. He wasn’t generally a fan of the kitchen, or at least not of getting _creative_ in said kitchen. He made himself soba and that was about the extent of his cooking skills, but it had always been more than good enough for him.

Swearing under his breath and vowing never to try something this stupid again, Kanda took a damp rag and began the daunting task of wiping down the counters. What had possessed him to try his hand at making chocolates from scratch he didn’t know, but he blamed the Beansprout’s enthusiasm for the holiday. He’d been drooling for days in anticipation of the day that was apparently dedicated solely to the exchanging of overpriced candies, and something about that had landed Kanda elbow-deep in the sticky process of making sweets himself.

He elbowed a couple bowls out of his way and into the sink, scrubbing the surface they’d been sitting on vigorously to get rid of the residue of coconut oil left behind. The plates he’d sat the finished chocolates on sat on the clearest stretch of counter, as far from the stove as he could get them, and he just hoped they had turned out decently. As he himself hated sweets, he hadn’t tried them, but he didn’t think their quality would matter _too_ much with the way Allen inhaled anything edible in sight.

The sound of the lock on the front door turning drew a vicious curse from Kanda, who hadn’t been watching the clock as well as he should have been, and he quickly tossed the rest of the dishes into the sink. He’d take care of those later. He just needed to make sure nobody that leaned against the counters would find themselves stuck there for the next year.

“Kanda?” Allen called, keys jingling as he tucked them away. The door clicked shut after him.

“Yeah,” Kanda said, taking a deep breath and giving up on the mess for the time being.

He tossed the washcloth into the sink and turned around in time to see Allen walk in, long cloak still buttoned up to his throat. The man paused in the doorway of the kitchen with his gloved hands curled around the scarf tied beneath his chin.

“What…are you doing?” Allen said curiously, pale gaze flicking around the war zone of a cooking space.

“What’s it look like?” Kanda said defensively, crossing his bare arms over his chest.

“It _looks_ like you’ve been baking,” Allen said. “It _smells_ kind of like you’ve been burning something. And why is there sugar in your hair?”

A tick started beneath his left eye, but Kanda took a deep breath and fought back the irritated quip hanging on his tongue. He jerked his head at the two plates that Allen somehow hadn’t noticed, each holding a different kind of chocolate.

“For you,” he mumbled.

Allen blinked, and then a wide smile split his face, dimples digging deeply into his cheeks and blue eyes shining happily. Kanda’s heart swooped in his chest, but he tightened his arms in front of him and resolutely pretended the heat creeping up his neck wasn’t real.

“Did you seriously make me take the morning shift so you could make me _chocolate_?” Allen said, eyes gleaming.

“I made you take the day shift so I could have some peace and quiet,” Kanda denied at once. “I just…needed something to do.”

“Of course,” Allen said, and Kanda knew he didn’t believe him for one second. Allen knew exactly why Kanda had insisted he work unusual hours at the lounge where he played piano, but he didn’t feel any need to call him out for it when it was so obvious already.

“Well?” Kanda said when Allen continued to smile stupidly at him. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna take of the jacket and act like you live here?”

Without answering Allen returned to untying his scarf, walking in so he could hang it over the back of a chair. His coat followed suit, leaving him in a clean white button-down shirt and black slacks. He pulled off his gloves and tucked them into his jacket pockets, then ran his bare fingers over his hair, which was getting long again; it was pulled back into a short, fluffy ponytail at the base of his skull.

“Can I try one?” he asked once he was properly disrobed.

“I didn’t make them to sit on the counter and collect dust,” Kanda said by way of answer.

Rolling his eyes, Allen plucked a piece off of the plate on the left. Kanda watched surreptitiously as he popped the small square into his mouth, chewing on his tongue nervously as Allen chewed.

“Well?” he prompted when Allen swallowed. The man turned and gave him a soft smile.

“It’s wonderful, Kanda,” he said. “Thank you.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shoulders falling slack, and his arms opened easily to Allen when he stepped closer. The shorter man tucked his face into the crook of Kanda’s neck and slid his arms around his waist. Kanda sat his chin on the crown of his head, nose twitching as a few stray ivory hairs tickled his nose, and looped one arm around Allen’s shoulders.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he mumbled.

“Mm, Happy Valentine’s Day,” Allen answered, pressing a light kiss against his neck.

* * *

Once Kanda was fast asleep, Allen cautiously slipped out from beneath the covers of their bed, pulling on the pair of sweatpants he’d changed into once he’d gotten home from work—and then promptly discarded in favor of activities that were far more enjoyable the less clothing he had on. With a last glance at Kanda’s sleeping face, long raven hair splayed across his pillow and falling in his face, Allen turned and tiptoed out of the room, carefully closing the bedroom door behind him. His partner was a light sleeper, and God help Allen if he got caught in the next few minutes.

He didn’t flick on the lights in the kitchen, but found the plates of chocolate in the dark by memory and touch. He tilted the first plate and dumped all of those chocolates onto the second, then picked that one up and carried it as quietly as possible out into the garage. It was tricky finding the massive trash can in the dark, but Allen managed well enough and tossed the butchered candies in, apologizing silently to Kanda but cringing at the prospect of eating any more.

It had tasted something like burnt rubber smelled, but he’d put on a brave face because he knew that Kanda had worked hard to make it, however hard he tried to play it off, and he didn’t want to make him feel bad for not succeeding. In the morning, when Kanda asked where the rest of chocolate was, he’d say he woke up in the middle of the night and wanted a snack, and then they could put this entire thing behind them.

Shuddering one more time as the phantom taste of toxic baked goods stung the back of his throat, Allen turned and shuffled back inside, closing the door carefully behind him and setting the plate back on the counter without a sound.

He returned to bed successfully and wormed his way back under the covers after abandoning his sweatpants—between Kanda and the heavy blankets, it was too warm to bother with them—and shifted over to stretch out along his partner’s side. Kanda rarely slept on his back, but Allen was glad when he did because his shoulder was an excellent pillow. Curling one arm on Kanda’s bare chest, Allen closed his eyes. In no time, he was out like a light, and Valentine’s Day passed.


End file.
